The Joy of Fessing Up

Last week, I had some fun playing a blogging version of Two Truths and a Lie. If you haven’t read that post, don’t bother. But please go and read the comments.

THE COMMENTS

Many of my readers participated and revealed that they have:

met Prince Charles

had their house burn down

dined with European presidents

chatted with Michael Jackson

danced on a table with Michael J. Fox

been in a French film

rode the school bus daily with a now-Steelers player

punched students and crushes in the face

met John Waters

led a student revolution in sixth grade

smoked weed out of an apple

had cocktails with a KGB general

THE REALITY

So in conclusion, my life is a bore.

But since you’re still reading, I’ll go on.

THE INVITATION

Dear Mom: Please keep reading. I’ve noted that you didn’t score 100%.

THE REVEAL

Teen Years

I home-dyed my hair red, but it turned burnt orange. LIE. I did dye my hair red at 18, but it looked burnt red.

I used a coat hanger to zip up my tight jeans. TRUE. They were Jordache jeans. It was a Junior High dance. I had basketball legs. And womanly hips.

I lined up overnight to get John Cougar Mellencamp tickets. TRUE. I was born in a small town.

Meeting Pro Athletes

I waltzed with a professional football player. TRUE. Darryl Patterson. He’s an American who played on numerous Canadian Football League (CFL) teams. He was married. I wasn’t. Before you think I was up to no good, I will fess up that we were in the same wedding party. CFLer Frank Robinson was in it too.

I babysat for a professional hockey player. TRUE.Doug Smail, who played for the Winnipeg Jets 1.0, was my cousin’s cousin.

I dated a Team Canada volleyball player. LIE.I did date a 6’8″ college volleyball player briefly, but I dumped him when he got cut from Team Canada. Kidding. I just stopped calling.

Parenting Lows

I sobbed right after parented music classes. TRUE. William had seriously defied me. Numerous times. I couldn’t cope. When I can’t cope, I cry.

I drank alcohol right after parented music classes. LIE. The lesson is at 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning.

I swore right after parented music classes. TRUE. I was recounting the music lesson horror to my husband, mid-tears.

THE POSTAMBLE

Thanks for the fun. Let’s play again, shall we?

THE POST POSTAMBLE

Any suggestions of other games we can adapt to blogging? I was going to suggest Twister…

All of them totally make sense. Wow, 6’8″ volleyball player! Are you tall as well, because that is a big dude?

To answer your question from a comment on a previous post about the nat’l championship at the 3-on-3 bball tourney: I was in my mid 30’s – let’s just say a few years ago – and we were in a 6’1″ (odd, yes? I am 6’1″) and under, open across all ages, division. We played teams from all over the country, and had to play Saturday for ranking, and then win six games for the title on Sunday. Maybe a post someday with pictures (not sure if I want to show pictures!). 🙂

My neighbor invited a bunch of us from the neighborhood to her house on January 1st to brunch. It was really just a way for her to get rid of her leftover party food, but it was food, so there you go. She served us a lovely punch, and after my second glass, my jaw started to feel all lose and slouchy (my first sign that I’ve been drinking…weird, I know).

I asked the hostess if the punch had alcohol in it and she said yes. Wow! Don’t you think that’s something you might want to mention at 10 in the morning! I had to go pick my kids up from preschool with a buzz.

Ok, so living in Chicagoland does have its perks. I lived in the same suburb as the 1985 Superbowl Chicago Bears, and counted many of them as my best buds, as we frequented the same pub. On occasion. But never before 10 a.m. We may have played a few games of Twister. Just to limber up before a big game.